The Houses of Iszm - Jack Vance, ebook, Temp
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The Houses of Iszm by Jack
Vance
I
IT WAS assumed as a matter of course that visitors came to Iszm with
a single purpose: to steal a female house. Cosmographers, students,
babes-in-arms, notorious scoundrels: the Iszic cynically applied the same
formula to all—microscopic inspection of mind and body and detailed
surveillance.
Only the fact that they turned up so many house-thieves justified the
procedure.
From a distance, it seemed simple enough to steal a house. A seed no
larger than a grain of barley could be sewn into a strap; a seedling could
be woven into the pattern of a shawl; a young shoot could be taped to a
rocket-missile and launched into space. There were a thousand fool-proof
ways to steal an Iszic house; all had been tried, and the unsuccessful
thieves had been conducted to the Mad House, their Iszic escorts
courteous to the last. As realists, the Iszic knew that some day—a year, a
hundred years, a thousand years—the monopoly would be broken. As
fanatically secretive controllers of the monopoly they intended to postpone
this day as long as possible.
Aile Fair was a tall, gaunt man in his thirties, with a droll, corded face,
big hands and feet. His skin, eyes and hair were a dust-colored
monochrome. More important to the Iszic, he was a botanist, hence an
automatic object of the utmost suspicion.
Arriving at Jhespiano atoll aboard the Red Ball Packet
Eubert Honore
,
he encountered suspicion remarkable even in Iszm. Two of the Szecr, the
 elite police, met him at the exit hatch, escorted him down the gangway
like a prisoner, and ushered him into a peculiar one-way passage. Flexible
spines grew from the walls in the direction of passage. A man could enter
the hall, but could not change his mind and return. The end of the passage
was closed by a sheet of clear glass and at this point Farr could move
neither forward nor back.
An Iszic wearing bands of wine-red and gray stepped forward and
examined him through the glass. Farr felt like a specimen in a case. The
Iszic grudgingly slid the panel back and led Farr into a small private room.
With the Szecr standing at his back, Farr turned over his debarkation slip,
his health certificate, his bond of good character, his formal entry
application. The clerk dropped the debarkation slip into a macerator,
inspected and returned the certificate and bond, and then settled himself
to a study of the application.
The Iszic eye, split into major and minor segments, is capable of double
focus. The clerk read with the lower fraction of his eyes, appraising Farr
with the top section.
" 'Occupation…' " he turned both segments of his eyes on Farr, then
flicking the bottom one back, read on in a cool monotone. " '… research
associate. Place of business—University of Los Angeles, Department of
Botany.' " He lay the application form to one side. "May I inquire your
motives for visiting Iszm?"
Fair's patience was wearing thin. He pointed to the application. "I've
written it all down."
The clerk read without taking his eyes from Farr, who watched in
fascination, marveling at the feat.
" 'I am on sabbatical leave,' " read the clerk. " 'I am visiting a number of
worlds where plants contribute effectively to the welfare of man.' " The
clerk focused both eye fractions on Farr. "Why do you trouble yourself to
this extent? Surely the information is conveniently available on Earth?"
"I am interested in first-hand observations."
"To what purpose?"
Farr shrugged. "Professional curiosity."
 "I expect that you are acquainted with our laws."
"How could I avoid it?" said Farr in irritation. "I've been briefed ever
since the ship left Starholme."
"You understand that you will be allowed no special privileges—no
exhaustive or analytical study… You understand?"
"Of course."
"Our regulations are stringent—I must emphasize this. Many visitors
forget, and involve themselves with severe penalties."
"By now," said Farr, "I know your laws better than I know my own."
"It is illegal to lift, detach, cut, accept, secrete or remove any vegetable
matter, vegetable fragment, seed, seedling, sapling or tree, no matter
where you find it."
"I intend nothing illegal."
"Most of our visitors say the same," responded the clerk. "Kindly step
into the next chamber, remove all your clothes and personal effects. These
will be returned to you at your departure."
Fair looked at him blankly. "My money—my camera —my—"
"You will be issued Iszic equivalents."
Farr wordlessly entered a white enameled chamber where he
undressed. An attendant packed his clothes in a glass box, then pointed
out that Farr had neglected to remove his ring.
"I suppose if I had false teeth you'd want them too," growled Farr.
The Iszic quickly scanned the form. "You assert quite definitely that
your teeth are integral to your body, natural and without modification."
The upper segments regarded Farr accusingly. "Is this an inaccuracy?"
"Of course not," protested Farr. "They are natural. I merely put forward
as a hypothesis… a joke."
The Iszic muttered into a mesh and Farr was taken into a side room
 where his teeth were given an exacting inspection. "I'll learn not to make
jokes," Farr told himself. "These people have no sense of humor."
Eventually the medics, shaking their heads glumly, returned Farr to the
outer chamber, where he was met by an Iszic in a tight white and gray
uniform, carrying a hypodermic.
Farr drew back. "What's this!"
"A harmless radiant."
"I don't need any."
"It is necessary," said the medic, "for your own protection. Most visitors
hire boats and sail out upon the Pheadh. Occasionally there are storms,
the boats are blown off course. This radiant will define your position on
the master panel."
"I don't want to be protected," said Farr. "I don't want to be a light on a
panel."
"Then you must leave Iszm."
Farr submitted, cursing the medic for the length of the needle and the
quantity of radiant.
"Now—into the next room for your tri-type, if you please."
Farr shrugged and walked into the next room.
"On the gray disk, Farr Sainh—palms forward, eyes wide."
He stood rigid as feeler-planes brushed down his body. In a glass dome
a three-dimensional simulacrum of himself six inches high took form. Farr
inspected it sourly.
"Thank you," said the operative. "Clothes and whatever personal effects
you may need will be issued in the next room."
Farr dressed in visitor's uniform: white soft trousers, a gray and green
striped smock, a loose dark-green velvet beret that fell low over his ear.
"Now may I go?"
 The attendant looked into a slot beside him. Farr could see a flicker of
bright characters. "You are Farr Sainh the research botanist." It was as if
he had said, "You are Farr, the admitted criminal."
"I'm Farr."
"There are several formalities awaiting you."
The formalities required three hours. Farr was once more given to the
Szecr, who examined him carefully.
He was finally allowed his freedom. A young man in the yellow and
green stripes of the Szecr escorted him to a gondola floating in the lagoon,
a long slender craft grown from a single pod. Farr gingerly took a seat and
was sculled across to the city of Jhespiano.
It was his first experience in an Iszic city, and it was far richer than his
mental picture. The houses grew at irregular intervals along the avenues
and canals—heavy gnarled trunks, supporting first the lower pods, then
masses of broad leaves, half-submerging the upper pod-banks. Something
stirred in Farr's memory—an association… Yeasts or mycetozoa under the
microscope.
Lamproderma violaceum? Dictydium cancellatum
? There
was the same proliferation of branches. The pods might have been
magnified sporangia. There was the same arched well-engineered
symmetry, the peculiar complex colors: dark blue overlaid with glistening
gray down, burnt orange with a scarlet luster, scarlet with a purple
over-glow, sooty green, white highlighted with pink, subtle browns and
near-blacks. The avenues below drifted with the Iszic population, a quiet
pale people, secure in the stratifications of their guilds and castes.
The gondola glided to the landing. A Szecr in a yellow beret with green
tassels was waiting—apparently a man of importance. There was no
formal introduction; the Szecr discussed Farr quietly between themselves.
Farr saw no reason to wait, and started up the avenue toward one of
the new cosmopolitan hotels. The Szecr made no attempt to stop him;
Farr was now on his own, subject only to surveillance.
He relaxed and loafed around the city for almost a week. There were
few other off-world visitors; the Iszic authorities discouraged tourism to
the maximum degree allowed them by the Treaty of Access. Farr tried to
arrange an interview with the Chairman of the Export Council, but an
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